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kingtoad's review
adventurous
funny
mysterious
reflective
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
chramies's review
4.0
Blackly humorous travelogue in which a 25-year-old waster (who seems to work as an event manager when he can't avoid it) gains Stature and decides to go on living. Contains: rants against consumerism, a portrait of modern Berlin, a fugu cook-off that ends nastily, and a lot of drugs and rock n roll (though surprisingly little sex, maybe I shouldn't have said that, but read it anyway).
bashbashbashbash's review
5.0
Lights Out in Wonderland begins with these lines:
There isn’t a name for my situation. Firstly because I decided to kill myself. And then because of this idea:
I don’t have to do it immediately.
Whoosh, through a little door. It’s a limbo.
I need never answer the phone again or pay a bill. My credit score no longer matters. Fears and compulsions don’t matter. Socks don’t matter. Because I’ll be dead. And who am I to die? A microwave chef. A writer of pamphlets. A product of our time. A failed student. A faulty man. A bad poet. An activist in two minds. A drinker of chocolate milk, and when there’s no chocolate, of strawberry and sometimes banana.
In times geared to the survival of the fittest, not the fittest.
Ah well. I’ve always avoided mirrors but here, naked in a room with a sink and a mirror, I steal a glance. Whoosh, the weasel is gone. Suddenly I’m a sphinx with choir-boy eyes, as luminous and rude as a decadent old portrait in oils.... By way of rejoicing I pee in the sink.
This is a tale of nihilistic abandon, a thoroughly debauched and bombastically narrated journey through the entrails of Western capitalism. The narrator initially intends for his final evening before suicide to take the form of some minor pub crawl; instead, it turns into a lengthy slog through depravity that becomes so repulsive that the novel is a burden to read. But somehow, just when the entire story seems fixed to implode, it metamorphoses into something beautiful. The finale leaves the reader (or, at least, me) feeling oddly unencumbered and hopeful.
There isn’t a name for my situation. Firstly because I decided to kill myself. And then because of this idea:
I don’t have to do it immediately.
Whoosh, through a little door. It’s a limbo.
I need never answer the phone again or pay a bill. My credit score no longer matters. Fears and compulsions don’t matter. Socks don’t matter. Because I’ll be dead. And who am I to die? A microwave chef. A writer of pamphlets. A product of our time. A failed student. A faulty man. A bad poet. An activist in two minds. A drinker of chocolate milk, and when there’s no chocolate, of strawberry and sometimes banana.
In times geared to the survival of the fittest, not the fittest.
Ah well. I’ve always avoided mirrors but here, naked in a room with a sink and a mirror, I steal a glance. Whoosh, the weasel is gone. Suddenly I’m a sphinx with choir-boy eyes, as luminous and rude as a decadent old portrait in oils.... By way of rejoicing I pee in the sink.
This is a tale of nihilistic abandon, a thoroughly debauched and bombastically narrated journey through the entrails of Western capitalism. The narrator initially intends for his final evening before suicide to take the form of some minor pub crawl; instead, it turns into a lengthy slog through depravity that becomes so repulsive that the novel is a burden to read. But somehow, just when the entire story seems fixed to implode, it metamorphoses into something beautiful. The finale leaves the reader (or, at least, me) feeling oddly unencumbered and hopeful.
cwgrieves's review
5.0
Simply incredible. Since I don't have the words to do the book justice I'm going to steal a few from DBC Pierre. It's a bacchanal of pure nimbus crafted for and by the Enthusiasms themselves. Exhausting, invigorating, depressing and life affirming all at once. An enthralling read.
st_leo's review
5.0
Whoosh.
There's a lot going on here. DBC Pierre really goes beyond what he did well in Vernon God Little and takes it to the next level: The little footnotes, the recipes, the little system of neologisms he's created, they all add up to make for a notetaking-worthy read.
Sure, there are some parts where it starts to slow down (the entirety of Tokyo; the beginning of Berlin), but it quickly picks up speed and heads to a completely ludicrous, yet satisfying wrap-up.
And yes, there are some heavy-handed moments of political agenda at work. It's really difficult to bypass this, but I personally didn't feel that it was too distracting to get through the novel. Perhaps it's because I'm a sympathizer, I don't know.
All in all, worth the plane trip to the land of Britain to import.
There's a lot going on here. DBC Pierre really goes beyond what he did well in Vernon God Little and takes it to the next level: The little footnotes, the recipes, the little system of neologisms he's created, they all add up to make for a notetaking-worthy read.
Sure, there are some parts where it starts to slow down (the entirety of Tokyo; the beginning of Berlin), but it quickly picks up speed and heads to a completely ludicrous, yet satisfying wrap-up.
And yes, there are some heavy-handed moments of political agenda at work. It's really difficult to bypass this, but I personally didn't feel that it was too distracting to get through the novel. Perhaps it's because I'm a sympathizer, I don't know.
All in all, worth the plane trip to the land of Britain to import.
vanessar's review
4.0
This book is a rant about capitalism and how it is basically rogering the masses and benefiting very few. But it is also a heartfelt story of a young man that has lost his way and for most of the book chooses to stay lost. I loved DBC Pierre's use of language in Vernon God Little and loved it here too. It's clear this man really relishes words; any book that has the phrase 'neo-Californian ano-extremists' 6 pages in has me convinced.
scherzo's review
2.0
Readable, but dreary with everything and everyone seen through the main character's drugged, drunk, navel-gazing mind.